My Crack of Sunlight
by willynilly23
Summary: S5 snippet before real S5 begins. Based on interviews and photos to date. If you are 100% unspoiled you might want to wait to read.


My Crack of Sunlight

Note: So this is the last S5 attempt before the real S5 and this is based on 3 things that are public at this point, the clip from Piper's interviews last week where she officially ends things with Auggie, the clip from Chris' USA interview which shows him kissing a new woman (Hailey) and a photo Chris released of Auggie drinking a bottle of wine on the streets of Paris. Other than those bits of info the rest is totally my imagination.

The title is from a Pink song, "I'm Not Dead" which is an amazing #Walkerson post S4 song.

***555***

"Hey," she said, careful not to startle him.

"You came," he smiled grimly.

"I never pass up a drink," Annie said taking in his appearance.

"Thanks," he took a swig from the bottle of wine in his hand.

"Where's your cane?" she asked puzzled.

"A few blocks back. In pieces."

"Why?"

"I was mad."

"You walked a few blocks in Paris without a cane?" Annie asked, her stomach dropped at the implication of Auggie's frame of mind.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," he shrugged.

"So you didn't really invite me for a drink…."

"Well, a drink and an escort back to the hotel," he shrugged and offered her the bottle of wine.

She took the wine and drank a long swallow, noting the twist off cap.

"Twist off wine?" she asked although admitted it wasn't bad.

"No cork screw, seems I am not prepared for everything," he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Today was not your fault," she reasoned.

"Today should not have happened," he said glumly.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"How many times are we going to walk up to that line before you're not?" he arched an eyebrow at her. "You deserve someone better than me."

Annie didn't know if he meant professionally or if the booze was now bringing him back to their short-lived romantic past.

"There is no one better than you. For me," she didn't know which she was talking about either.

He looked towards her then with genuine surprise on his face.

"Let's go," she handed him back the wine and brushed his arm so he could take her arm.

The walk back to the hotel was not very long, but it was silent as Annie remembered everywhere the two of them had walked like this: Barcelona, Amsterdam, Medellin, Hong Kong. All the places they navigated before during and after they were lovers.

By the time they reached the hotel the ache in Annie's soul was almost audible. When the elevator reached the floor where there separate rooms were she leads him the wrong way.

"I know I am disoriented, but my room is that way," he pointed behind them.

"Come to mine?" she asked quietly.

"Annie," he said with a combination of desire and warning.

"You promised me a drink, we can finish the wine," her voice was low and breathy.

"This was your deal, you left and then you came back and didn't want any emotional attachments," Auggie used air quotes, the bottle of wine still in his hand.

"There doesn't need to be any emotional attachment here," she almost sounded like she meant that.

"Do you not want to?" she whispered directly in his ear, her lips soft, her tongue darting out on the last word and grazing his lobe.

"Annie," he practically growled.

"Auggie, you are the king of sex without emotion," she accused as she stepped back just as he was reaching for her, throwing him off balance.

A look of hurt flashed across his face.

"Never with you," he said honestly.

"First time for everything," she said casually and watched the war play out on his face.

He followed her to her room and she allowed him to kiss her deeply for an extended period of time pressed back against the closed door. When she pulled back she had to close her eyes, had to block out the look of utter devotion on his face. She could have this man, she could have him and he would commit to her fully. Why can't she commit to him?

She realized the prolonged kissing was dangerous and instead dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands making quick work of his belt. She heard him raise the bottle to his lips, the slosh of wine as he tipped it back.

It was easier for Auggie to shut down than most men, he couldn't see his lover, she was always faceless these days. When he and Annie started sleeping together it was different, they found a way to connect in bed with words and touch that allowed him to feel as though he could see her. Like this now, she didn't sound like Annie any more, her voice was harder, her commands rougher.

As they tousled for control on the bed he was really able to separate the sex from his incredibly complex feelings for the woman he was having it with, until she said his name.

"Auggie," she sighed as she arched her back and kissed is neck.

It had the combined effect of making him want to stop and propelling him forward.

***555***

The first time Auggie woke, Annie was draped across his body sleeping soundly. He risked running his fingers through her hair, not wanting to wake her and scare her off.

He could still hear his name fall off her lips as he touched her. It was full with passion, but laced with affection. She loves him, he knows she does, can feel it radiate off her, even when her mouth is saying she doesn't or she can't.

So perhaps, after everything they have been through, Helen was right all along: you can't be a spy and have love. It certainly hasn't worked out well for Auggie to this point.

***555***

The next time it is thunder that wakes Auggie, nothing serious, a low steady rumble that pulls him from sleep. He can hear a hard rain, smell it through the open window and he no longer has Annie in his arms.

He can sense her heat though, the bed is small and she is not far. He lets his fingers trail over the cool sheets between them, marking the passage of time since she moved. His long middle finger hits her first finds the small of her back, still bare.

Boldly he trails it up to her hip, can feel the curve of her ass and her thigh indicating she is curled on her side. He slides over, molding himself to her, kissing her bare shoulder, close enough to clutch her if she tries to bolt.

She doesn't.

Annie turns her head back, sees his sleepy smile, feels the warmth of him from shoulders to knees behind her. She kisses him, doesn't even attempt to hide the want, burrows her fingers in his messy hair.

He gives her everything she asks for, kiss for kiss, sigh for sigh, moan for moan. They really are a perfect match. The rain is so loud on the pavement below he thinks he mishears her when she whispers "more" into his mouth, but he is certain he understands when she pushes him flat on his back and slips on top of him.

The thunder provides a baseline to their coupling, a deep low through line that matches the ache they both feel. It is an ache Auggie tries to ease with other women, that Annie fights with dangerous missions.

"More," becomes her mantra, she wants all of him, all he can give her in this small bed in this small hotel room on this rainy night in Paris.

***555***

The last time Auggie wakes she is gone. He knows the bed is empty and for a moment he wonders if the room is too. Annie wouldn't leave him permanently; she knows he doesn't have his cane. The room is silent though, he can feel sunlight coming through the window that showcased the rain earlier.

His body is tired, his mind exhausted, he slept but never restfully, he continued to make love to her in his dreams. He hardly ever sees in his dreams any more, but there is this way of knowing in a dream that we never get in our waking lives, a sense of understanding.

Just when he fears she did abandon him naked and without his cane the door opens.

"Hey," she says clearly startled to see him awake.

"Hey," he replies not confident enough to joke.

"I got you coffee," she says and he can hear her forward progress halted as she bends to pick his pants up off the floor.

She brushes the warm paper cup against his hand as he sits up against the headboard.

"Thank you," he says, still unable to say anything more than the most necessary of pleasantries.

"Our flight is at 1:00," she sits next to him, sips her own coffee.

"OK," he nods, the coffee is delicious.

"What time is it now?" he realizes he has no idea.

"Little after 9:00."

He nods again.

He can hear her nibbling at the plastic lid, her tongue flicking against the aperture of the cup, his body instantly recalls the ways her tongue teased him, he does the math to figure if he can coax her out of her clothes one more time before they have to get ready for the airport.

He knows they won't spend that time talking.

She stands and his hand instantly flies out to catch her, not wanting her to create the physical distance to match the emotional one already creeping back in.

"Annie," he hardly recognizes the scratch of his voice, the hunger there.

She stops, laces their fingers together. He remembers every time they have held hands or linked fingers or used a hand to express comfort or warning. Auggie's blindness necessitates it, but they had crafted that functional need into an emotional connection.

She stares at their linked fingers and has the same memory, the same understanding that their union has evolved, been tested, been severed and burned, but it is not gone, it will never be gone despite her proclamations. She has him and he has her, it is what makes them weak, it is what makes them strong.

She doesn't apologize for using him, he doesn't expect anything more than the moment they are in. They both know things will go right back to normal, he will tease her, she will laugh. He will invite Hailey back into his bed and Annie will be back in the field before the next sunrise.

"Auggie," she finally speaks out loud.

"Yeah?"

"You are everything," is all she says, she kisses him tenderly and then helps him collect his clothes.

He stops in the bathroom doorway and turns back to where she was.

"Everything," she repeats.

The End


End file.
